A Tale of Sylvia
by XxCheshireSmilexX
Summary: Dallas is in trouble with the fuzz, and we all know Sylvia cheats on him while he's in there, but what was going through her mind? This is my opinion of what was going on in her head one of the times he gets hauled in. ONE-SHOT


**A/N:Hi guys! I know I should be working on my other story, but this popped into my head and I had to write it! I've never done a one-shot, so I thought I might give it a go so I don't get sucked into a whole other story. Enjoy!**

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One-Shot

I woke up slowly. Something usual on the weekends, especially after a night at Buck's. I sat up in my bed, and wiped my eyes only to see black smudges on each hand. I looked around my room. It smelled like him. It always did. After all, he left enough cologne drenched clothes here it's be a mystery if it didn't smell. He denied that he wore cologne, but he really did. It wasn't girly smelling cologne; it was a hearty musky smell.

I swung my legs off the bed and staggered to the bathroom. I looked into the mirror and almost shuddered. The worst part about going to Buck's was waking up and seeing the raccoon eyes you had after forgetting to take it off the night before. I turned on the faucet and wiped all my makeup off. I dried my face and then brushed the tangles out of my dusky brown hair. I thought about last night. Me and Dallas went to Buck's last night. We danced some, kissed some, and drank a lot. After a while he told me he was going to do something with Steve and Two-Bit. I knew that wasn't good. I continued to hang out with Evie and some girls.

I didn't see him for the rest of the night. I didn't worry too much, he was always doing things, and I assumed as long as he was with Steve and Two-Bit, he couldn't do anything too terrible. I twirled the ring around the chain on my neck. His ring he got from a drunk senior. At least he said he was drunk. Dallas would've jumped him for no reason and with no purpose. Or he could've just wanted the ring. I didn't want to love wearing it because it wasn't his. But I did love it, all the same. It meant as much as if it was. It meant I was his girl.

I walked around my empty house. Dad was probably off passed out in the front lawn of a bar, and mom probably off with some other man. My aunt says I run with the wild crowd because my parents are so messed up. I agree that yes, my parents are messed up, but I can't say that's why I 'run with the wild crowd'. It's all part of where you are growing up. Even if your parents did what mine did, only did it with money, you would still be a soc. I only hang out with wild girls and date a hood because of these are the people who dig me, associate with me, know what it's like to try and look great on the lowest wage possible.

Not only that, but the soc population in general doesn't know how to have fun. The girls sit around in a bedroom the whole night talking about cute boys. The guys throw beer blasts, which is fun, sure, but all they do is drink, where's the pool table? Dancing? Music? They're too safe, afraid to chip a nail every once in a while. Some people would say money is what separates a greaser and a soc. Others, they say it's where they live. I think it's just the personality.

I turned the television on in my living room. The news was on and it was a segment about the protesting hippies. I thought it was weird that Tulsa was still stuck in this soc versus greaser thing, whereas nearly every other part of America was holding hands and protesting with long hair. Some places, it was greaser style even, everyone was putting rips in their new blue jeans. But no, Tulsa was still in hate.

I heard the phone ring. I jumped, startled. Who called this early? I answered, "Hello?"

"Hey, babe," I heard a husky voice. Dallas.

"Dally? What's wrong?" I asked sternly, he hardly ever called to just chat and this early?

"I'm in the station…"  
I cut him off before he could finish. "Why are you in the station?! Can I not trust you? What did you do? You are not a kid Dallas Winston, act your age once in a while!" I said my voice full of rage. I knew it wasn't good when he left last night. He was always getting hauled in and I hated every bit of it. I didn't want to go out with a delinquent hood. I like adventure, but not someone who was being hunted down by the cops. I felt a tear slide down my cheek.

"Act my age?" he said, anger in his voice. "Listen; don't be a bitch, okay? I'm in the station, I'll be out in six months!" he nearly yelled. The last part didn't need to be yelled, but he was angry. I was glad I didn't have to talk to him face to face; he was pretty intimidating in person.

"I can't believe you… Don't expect me to come and see you!" I said my voice cracking. I angrily hung up the phone. I knew I would end up seeing him, and apologizing, but right now, I was angry. I lay on the couch and cried for a long while.

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That night I went to Buck's again to drink off worry and slight pain.

"Well, well, little miss Winston. Two nights in a row? But I see you're missing Mister Winston," he said. Buck was an okay guy, and barely okay. He threw great parties, just not a conversationalist. He talked slowly and had the thickest accent I'd ever heard. Not only that, but he gave people about three different nicknames, one of mine Miss Winston, even if me and Dallas weren't together at the moment. A lot of girls loved him though, but I certainly wasn't a fan of him.

"Buck, you gonna let me in?" I asked with a sigh.

"As the lady wishes," he said, stepping aside. I walked inside and immediately went to the bar.

"Well, well, what would you like, Sylvia?" The bartender asked. I liked this bartender. She was probably the nicest one, also one of Buck's groupies.

"Just a beer," I said miserably.

She turned around and grabbed two, placing both in front of me. "That ones on the house," she said pointing to one of them. "You seem down, and I won't press, just make it better," she said with a smile. I gave a small smile back. I guzzled the first one down quickly, but the second one in a more timely fashion. I watched people come and go, as I collected more bottles. I didn't aim to get as drunk as possible, like I'd seen my dad do. Just a buzz. After three beers, I got that buzz. Maybe a little more.

I turned around, thinking I could find one of my friends, preferably Evie. Or Sandy, I like Sandy, but she wasn't one to set foot in here very often. I looked around. The crowd was mostly filled with boys today, some who looked very cute, and maybe that was just the beer talking. I wanted Dallas right now, to dance with some, maybe even check out a room.

But that's right, Dallas isn't here. I thought maybe one night with another guy wouldn't kill me. In fact, it would teach Dallas a lesson even. I gave a satisfactory smile to myself. I found just the guy to attempt this with. This would teach a lesson for sure, I kept repeating that in my head at least. "Hey Timmy," I whispered in Tim Shepard's ear. He spun around to face me.

"Well, if it isn't Winston's girl," he grinned.

I started to twirl my hair for effect. "Yeah, but Dallas isn't here tonight," I said, faking a pout.

"Isn't he now?" he asked, swishing the beer around in his bottle, looking uninterested. I didn't know if he was pretending or not, but even if he wasn't, I wanted to get him to the point to where he didn't even hide his want.

"Nope, he got hauled in, and I'm all alone tonight," I said, with another fake pout.

"Hmm," he mumbled. I decided I needed to be extra seductive for Tim. He always played hard to get, which is why so many girls like him. I stopped and thought of why I was even doing this. Dallas would just get mad, but he might finally stay out of jail. Maybe this is just the beer, but I kind of wanted Tim right now, maybe Dallas wouldn't find out. That's it. He didn't have to know.

"Tim, let me ask you something," I said coming close to him. "How many girls have you been with?"

"Many, kid," he said gruffly.

"Oh really? And you think I'm a kid?" I asked, seductively. He didn't answer, just shrugged. So I continued. I trailed a finger down his shirt, stopping at his belt buckle. "'Cause I surely don't act like a kid," I said in a low voice.

"Don't you now?" he asked. He always asked weird questions, questions that took me forever to sort out, and even then I wasn't even sure if they made sense. I liked but hated these questions. I once more questioned why I was doing this. Maybe I don't need Dallas? Maybe I'd be better off without him. I didn't need someone who always got in trouble. But then again, Tim wasn't any better.

I pressed my body up against his. "Oh no, I do not act like a kid at all," I said, gently kissing his neck now. I kissed his neck harder, more passionately. He let out a groan of pleasure. He grabbed my waist and I looked at me.

"You don't kiss like a kid at all," he said.

I shrugged. "Yeah, I can show you other things I don't do like a kid either," I said, pressing up against him hard.

"Like what?" he asked, wrapping his arms around me.

"Come with me and I'll show you," I whispered in his ear. I started to walk upstairs. I didn't look back; I knew he would follow now. I walked into a room. I turned around and saw him walk in behind me, closing and locking the door. I sat on the bed, and twirled my hair. He came over and started to kiss me hard. He slipped his tongue in my mouth, moving it around expertly. I moaned. I still didn't know why I was doing this. The beer was a good excuse.

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I woke up next to Tim. Oh what did I do? I didn't mean to do this, I wanted to teach Dallas a lesson, but I was caught in the moment, I didn't think I'd go through with it. What would Dallas say? Maybe he wouldn't figure out. I got out of bed. I located my clothes, slipped them on, and got out of there as quick as I could. I caught a bus home. I didn't even want to think about what I just did. Dallas was going to be pissed.

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**A/N: Review please! Hope you liked it!**


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